


A Velvet Rage

by DerWille



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anger, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Rejection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerWille/pseuds/DerWille
Summary: One-shot of Will during season three. Prompt: It's not my fault you don't like girls.





	A Velvet Rage

_It’s not my fault you don’t like girls_.

Will sped home, the rain cold and harsh against his hot tears. His stomach was heavy and burning, his lungs heaving with the effort to escape his feelings of shame and betrayal. He was at the same time both aware of the exertion and physical demands of biking in the storm, and also completely absent, _numb_ , floating somewhere behind himself, detached from his body; possessed yet empty.

He was humiliated and angry at his weakness, ashamed of his utter inability to protect himself from such humiliation. He was filled with a velvet rage.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thought that he would be safe there, with them. He was different from them. He had been changed, he had been taken over, abandoned, lost. He was different; he always had been. Always the one at the mercy of others, dependent on them, reliant on their protection and affirmation. He was left behind as they grew taller than him, as they moved on from a past that he couldn’t escape, as they became interested in girls.

He was not some immature child, some _baby_ , for not liking girls. It just hadn’t happened, yet, right? Right?

And Mike had thrown that into his face, using Will’s deepest insecurities to justify his abandonment, shaming him for taking joy from something that they had all used to enjoy, something that brought them together. It seemed like it could no longer keep them together.

Will refused to be so weak again, to allow himself to be lured into trust only to have his heart broken, his vulnerability defiled, his joy turned to shame. They couldn’t reject him; he would abandon _them_. How could he be hurt if he was the one in control, the one to decide how things turned out?

He would break it down, smash and bludgeon it out of existence and memory. He wanted to see their faces when they realized what they had done; what he was now able to do.

He wanted to burn it down with his velvet rage.


End file.
